


Different Yet the Same

by nahobitogay (orphan_account)



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Bottom Eren Yeager, Bottom Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Character Death In Dream, Drug Abuse, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Fanfiction, French Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), German Eren Yeager, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Post-War, Psychotropic Drugs, Racism, Romance, Serious Injuries, Shame kink, Slow Burn, Top Eren Yeager, Top Levi (Shingeki no Kyojin), Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Verbal Humiliation, World War I
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-04-16
Packaged: 2021-03-01 23:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,038
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23675689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/nahobitogay
Summary: they've been hurt,seen the worst of a man's hand--even bore the heaviest hatred of society,yet they are seen so differently with uniformand that spells "shame" onto humanity.could two enemies fall in love,or succumb to the true horrors of war?[altered great war; historical romance]
Relationships: Levi & Eren Yeager, Levi/Eren Yeager
Kudos: 11





	1. a piece of advice

**Author's Note:**

> a simple writer who dedicates majority of this novel to the soldiers who served in world war I. 

_take into consideration_

_that novels aren't just bland literatures._

_novels are longing dreams_

_maneuvered into hardworking realities._

_some are already realities,_

_ready to ride the dream_

_that is far, far away._

enjoy.


	2. in the mist

━✰━

_Battle of Passchendaele._  
_1917_

The bombs are clashing against the earthly ground. Screams can be heard throughout the broken town. Most soldiers are crying, dead, crawling to safety—something to see daylight's beauty just once more. Some of the remaining medics are rushing to the wounded, but time is faster and deems itself the winner. Bullets are piercing throughout the layers of sanity, ears, and flesh. The worst thing about it is the hearing of heavy "thuds", then you know that when they don't groan, at all, they're gone into the mist.

Levi Ackerman wishes not to meet that fate.

Or, at least, just not yet.

Farlan is hysterical at this point, but who can blame the kid? He's scared shitless and has his helmet worn the wrong way.

"Private Dumb-ass, you're going to get shot in the head!" Levi cursed. "Do you want that? I'm sure you don't! What will Isabelle think?"

Farlan turns and faces him with a bitter expression, knowing he won't last long in the "lions' den". The building they're occupying almost seems at its limit, really. Rats are crawling everywhere, eating every last bit of the bread they've stored. Not to mention that it reeks of rotting human flesh and "shit", as Levi thinks of it.

"She's going to be proud I've served, _Sergent_ ," Farlan smiles weakly. "At least, I hope so."

"No, she isn't."

The day turns to bare night in what seems like seconds, although it has always been night since the beginning of the war. They stay quiet, listening only to the distant bombing the Air Force fortunately provides and faint crickets. It's getting far darker by now, and Levi's sure no one expects the next attack to occur. It's been a day or so since the arrival of the Allies, but to everyone's relief, yet fear no sight of any Axis Powers appeared after the surprise attack they gave. Now, they could've been trapped, later dying in their sleep due to gas, but it's a risk all soldiers must take.

"Sleep, Private," Levi commands. "You need sleep until they arrive again. I'll keep watch."

Farlan stares at him with an unfamiliar look and asks, "aren't I going to keep watch as well, _Sergent_? You're going to need—"

"Some of us can't sleep," Levi says simply. "Especially those soldiers fighting in the Western front. The Germans and the Italians have been going at it nonstop."

Farlan can't even imagine that just yet. They were attacked a few times on the way to the Flanders and that's about it right before the short fight after the arrival. But to not dig into the ground and rest for five seconds—now that's really unfortunate. He turns to face the blank, dirty, ruined wall in front of him, almost sleeping. Levi notices his struggle to rest, knowing any time of the day he'll be the one resting with a flower in his hands. It's predictable; he's weakening against his conscious. And if Farlan is to survive, what truly remains?

"You're going to be sent home in a few weeks, did you know that? They're sending some soldiers home for a short vacation, and new recruits are taking the spot," Levi says lowly, as though to not startle him. "So don't give up just yet, Private."

"Why?" Farlan asks with a broken smile, "I'm-I- _Sergent_ —"

"Shh," Levi hushes and pats his shoulder, "it's alright. Go to sleep."

Hesitantly listening to his words, Farlan falls asleep, hoping to get rid of the thoughts that grip his mind. He shifts a bit, groaning weakly from slight pains in his legs due to severe running. And alas, he finds the right position, a tearing smile making its way on his face as his eyes close into eternal slumber. Farlan looks so safe, comfortably safe even that Levi dares a glance at his inferior comrade with a deep sigh.

Very early the next morning, Levi decides to look about for some bread for him and Farlan. However, at that time, "enemy spotted" shouts come alert and that's when Levi's on his quickest to check on Farlan. Bombs suddenly drop and the ground stumbles rather roughly. The air sounds differently this time as well, so when Levi looks up, he sees German aircrafts dashing by with falling bombardments.

" _Farlan_! _Kid_! Are you safe!?" Levi shouts as he rushes into the building where Farlan and him camped. " _Farlan_ . . _Farlan_ ," he repeats breathlessly, falling onto his legs.

The ground still trembles so extraordinarily dangerous. Soldiers are screaming again, running and throwing back at the Germans as if that'll be all that will stop everything. Every second seems the same; everything seems the same, just like an endless pit of mindless pain.

"Je suis désolé, Sargent, il est mort de choc," a French soldier says, pointing at the medics who worry about the lack of plasma.

Levi stares at Farlan's peaceful face. He slept well, probably thinking of Isabelle and his family; the restaurant he owned near the playground they've all met at some point and the sweet porridge his mother often made. He's really pale, too, but it's good to see him almost living than rotting too soon.

"Yeah," Levi manages to say without a stutter; "Yeah. Pouvez-vous l'emmener dans un endroit sûr?"

The soldier takes a risky moment to stare at Levi's face, as if that question seems a bit of an misunderstanding of reality. Then, he dares let out a response: "Bien sûr, Sargent. Après tout, ils sont tous envoyés dans un endroit sûr, non?"

Again, shoving all risky emotion deep down, Levi nods, grabbing his rifle from his back strap and positing himself for war once more. But he almost can't focus, because Farlan is in his mind.

_I'll definitely slip a poppy under your resting hands, Farlan._  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹Je suis désolé, Sargent, il est mort de choc.  
> I'm sorry, Sargent, he died of shock.
> 
> ²Pouvez-vous l'emmener dans un endroit sûr?  
> Can you send him to a safe place?
> 
> ³Bien sûr, Sargent. Après tout, ils sont tous envoyés dans un endroit sûr, non?  
> Of course. After all, they all are sent to a safe place, right?


	3. bloody cloth

" _Sergen_ t?"

Levi wishes to hear much quicker. All the artillery going back and forth right against his ears doesn't help. Truly all he really sees are the falling of the soldiers and Farlan's weak face. He sees how fast the medics run to the groaning wounded, and how the plasma is back. He wishes they're could've been plasma the day Farlan died, but it changes nothing. A dead flower remains nothing. There is nothing in his poor, humanly hands that can change a soldier's fate. But Levi truly wishes for godly power.

"Where's the flamethrower?" Levi reconnects, turning hastily to the younger soldier.

"J-je ne comprends pas," the soldier stutters in confusion.

 _Oh_.

"Ont-ils déjà eu le lance-flammes?" Levi corrects himself, looking back and forth at the farther trenches.

"Sergent, il ne doit être utilisé que lorsque nous atteignons leur tranchée la plus proche!"

Levi let's out a tired growl and stands up, ignoring the possibility of being shot. He doesn't even care at this point; screw his wish--this is fool madness; "Go get it."

" _S-Sergent_!" The man almost wails as though he knows what that means. "A--"

"Listen to your superior officer!" Levi shouts in annoyance. "Écoutez ceux qui sont perdus!"

The soldier stiffens and hastily stands. He's ready to leave, but he takes a last look at Levi as if the man himself has gone insane. Levi looks tired, relentless even. His hair isn't so soft looking anymore; it's greasy and messy, along with his eyes—they seem out of the world. He wonders what sanity is truly left, and why the older even joined in the first place, but he leaves before even thinking in such an area.

Levi seems to have a different goal, but the younger soldier hasn't reached that point yet. It isn't peace _they're_ desiring. With such a destructive nature the man now grip, they're looking for achievement, really. Peace seems utterly useless, not that it was ever there to begin. Peace is like school for little kids who oppose school. Perhaps that is why almost every man chooses to fight, because it is no choice. It's the reality where society disowns you for not serving for your country. What a lie, most believe—it's only a pity lost. Levi thinks the entire situation as needlessly complicated.

The soldier returns with shaky hands of which carries the flamethrower, not looking at Levi's dark, grey eyes. Anyway it means nothing to Levi. He's not looking at the soldier either; he doesn't want to see dead flowers anymore. It's typical for a soldier in war. Levi grabs it with angry firm and tells him to hide behind a rock or something. The soldier is bound to die next to the main target.

"Son of a bitch!" Levi starts growling loudly with flames flowing so dangerously; "We are all the fucking same with different uniforms, you morons!"

He doesn't know who to direct that to, but it sure isn't the enemies whose guns point toward him. Bullets start shooting at his figure, but Levi is slick and not a rookie, for one.

 _Why must we hurt our brothers_? Levi thinks solemnly, _For they are simply from different mothers?_

The moment of his signed alliance, Levi was definite with pushed emotions. At this moment, risky feelings continuously build and fall again. The mere look of a young soldier's eyes bring him pain. And then Farlan's face appears: young, bright, enthusiastic. How can he fall so easily?

Levi's eyes darken.

You can be wanting to protect and wanting to live long with pride from the miracle, but instantly change as you see fate isn't so sympathetic, at all. People aren't sympathetic. Everything is inevitable, yes, but in a very, very disastrous way, he thinks.

Suddenly, Levi's mental rant is interrupted. A loud explosion erupts so dangerously nearby, having all the soldiers yell. Then, heavy sounds of bullets crack into the already full air. Levi shakes and tumbles, falling down and rolling into a now acknowledged shell-hole. It's small and has hundred dozen of rocks and wet muddy dirt. He falls deeper, having his entire body covered in a darker substance. He looks even pitifully dirty. A thought then comes to mind: _what would mother think_? She's dead, though. There's no way to truly know, and it makes him even angrier. But his head meets with a rock and the madness immediately leaves.

"Fuck," Levi mutters in silenced agony. "Fuck, they've got us in the ass, haven't they?"

He doesn't say that to anyone again. At this point Levi thinks he's beyond insanity, but who isn't now? It makes everything worse since he can hardly rest without waking up with horrid things seen. The thing Levi's hoping not to hear is "therapy". Hours and hours of talk sessions and medication isn't going to heal anything, especially with a man who's seen something worse than reality itself.

Levi sits still and stares at the sky. It's still so dark, it can be considered night every day now. It hasn't even rained yet either. The water supply is lowering by every hour, but to the luck of having useful allies, the main supply ally being the U.S., all struggle seems to maintain a steady level.

Levi sighs tiredly for the thousandth time that week, using that as a resistance against sobbing into a completely broken, endless moment. But his body freezes at the sound of another struggling person. Slowly—with barely any movement of his breathing chest—, Levi reaches for his sharp dagger. The person sounds distant and unfamiliar (everyone who boarded the ship to France coughed a lot—most died—and since Levi wasn't doing much he unintentionally memorized the coughs.) Levi slowly lifts his head, eyes desperately searching and cautious at the same time. His eyes meet a groaning person who's bleeding from his abdomen quite severely, and in that moment Levi relaxes. But his eyes adjust correctly, and suddenly Levi's surging forward with the dagger firmly in his palm. The light, grey-greenish uniform the man wears stabs his eyes painfully.

A German soldier.

_Temptation. Temptation. Temptation._

_No_ , Levi eases. His hands shake as he hesitantly lets go the sharp weapon. Levi knows what he's doing is lawfully wrong. It's a war crime what he's about to do, he knows. It's a societal crime what he's about to do, he _knows_. But this is _wrong_! It's so _fucking wrong_ , _he_ _knows_!

"Oi, oi"—Levi makes his way toward the injured soldier—"are you hurt?" He asks whispery.

 _Wait_.

"Hold on, hold on," Levi repeats. "Entspann dich, mein Verbündeter. Entspannen. Wie schwer bist du verletzt? Antworte, wenn du kannst . ."

The surprise look on the German's face whelms Levi's chest. Then Levi actually sees the face of his "enemy". He looks terribly young. Those teal eyes seem so young but lost, very tired—like Levi's, but this is the first time. _Oh God, what a young, spoiled fruit_ , he thinks. He doesn't even have wrinkles on his pale skin, and his brown hair looks so disgustingly, dirtily beautiful. The sight makes Levi angry.

"I sp—"—the soldier coughs harshly—"I-I speak English, t-too. And French . . n-noticing the thin accent . . "

"You speak so safely," Levi says.

The soldier coughs again; "You called m-me ally, didn't you?"

Levi stares into his bright, yet hurt eyes, and scarcely asks, "Don't you fear a bit?"

The soldier hardly shakes his head, managing a hoarse chuckle. It's foreign to Levi, hearing any type of chuckle in a while. The war's even got the humor hanging lowly, too. But this soldier isn't like any of the other men fighting the war, dying in the war even—perhaps only a bit resemblance to Farlan. This young fellow seems yet to be broken, not even a bit cracked in the dark pit. He's still fighting, just not physically. He's fighting with the conscious that whispers "failure" into his ears. _What a brave soul_ , Levi thinks. To be this far into war and not yelling and sobbing until death does the favor— _fascinating_.

Levi shakes his head lightly before opening his cold jacket and achieving a thick cloth. It's helpful enough to stop the bleeding for about a few hours or so. Then, the soldier will have to find out a way to patch up the wound himself. It's not as if the German can jolly along with the Power Allies. They'd kill him on sight, the poor boy.

The soldier hisses as Levi presses firmly onto the bleeding opening. A few tears roll down the seemingly younger's cheeks. The soldier feels weird having a warmth on his face, water even. He looks up at Levi, staring at his focused, yet broken face hidden away from others. He's grateful and even wants to thank the man, but his throat hurts—everything is in some endless pain he can't quite grip.

"You know"—Levi goes about lowly—"you and I are great enemies, but, yet, here you are, accepting help from a dangerous stranger. I can go and slit your throat right now, you idiot." Levi eyes his aching face.

The soldier smiles weakly; "I can say the same about you. I can blow the two of us right now and you'd say clueless, but here _you_ are, daring to even help a helpless German when we both know we are breaking multiple rules."

Levi rolls his eyes and nods amusingly from his answer. Then, he looks back down at his wound; "What's your name?"

The soldier grins and says, "Er—"

"Eren!" [Strangely] A feminine voice calls out. "Are you there?!"

More voices call out for _Eren_ , some even call out _Jäeger_ for some reason, perhaps a more formal calling. The boy Eren, Levi supposes, looks fearfully in the direction of the voices, then to Levi. They stare at each other momentarily before Levi moves back and runs back to _his_ side of the frontline. He doesn't say goodbye, not even give a bare nod. Levi simply runs hastily, not yet giving himself to be eaten by the same beasts.

Right after Levi disappears in sight, a strange looking "male" appears immediately by his side, pulling out a medkit, almost crying in the process. Another male arrives, though this one seems slightly more masculine despite the blonde hair, and he's not resisting to cry as he weakly hugs him.

"Eren, dummkopf, what were you thinking attacking only alone with no helmet, at all! They even have that machine going like it's hungry, you know!" The blonde cries, hitting against his arm.

"You had him so worried that he spoke an actual word in German. Do you want to avenge your mother dead, huh?" The other male says, ripping a white cloth apart.

"Oh, c'mon! I can't even call you by your real name, Mikasa. You're Asian for crying out loud! You know how people feel about Asians at the moment. Just wait until Kaiser Wilhelm finds out about an Asian fighting in our part of the war, especially with you being a lady instead of a man!" Eren lashes quietly.

"Eren, don't think like that. It's scaring me, you know!" The blonde blurts with a teary face. "Mikasa is just here for a while . . "

"Armin, you knew the downsides of this when—"

Interrupted by Mikasa, a strange, dark expression crawls onto her face. She holds up the cloth Levi gave to him, bloody and foreign to them; "Where did you get this, Eren? This has a French soldier name on it— _Sergent Levy—Levi_? What?"

Eren's face almost melts at the sight; "I was bleeding terribly. I had nothing on me, Mikasa." His eyes dart to a dead soldier near the corner. "I took it from him—that dead French."

Mikasa's eyes relax when she sees the body, then she returns to patch the wound as she throws the cloth away with hidden disgust. Eren watches where the cloth is thrown, definitely going to retrieve it once the two leave far enough for him. The man has saved him, but it almost costed him his own life. Eren decides to not remorse over his wrongdoing, but to remember the true honor of a soldier in war.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¹ J-je ne comprends pas  
> I-I don't understand
> 
> ² Ont-ils déjà eu le lance-flammes?  
> Have they gotten ahold of the flamethrower yet?
> 
> ³ Sergent, il ne doit être utilisé que lorsque nous atteignons leur tranchée la plus proche!  
> Sergeant, it should only be used when we reach their nearest trench!
> 
> ⁴ Écoutez ceux qui sont perdus!  
> Hear those who are lost!
> 
> ⁵ Entspann dich, mein Verbündeter. Entspannen. Wie schwer bist du verletzt? Antworte, wenn du kannst . .  
> Relax, my ally. Relax. How badly are you hurt? Answer if you can . .
> 
> ⁶ dummkopf  
> Fool.

**Author's Note:**

> wattpad: @DOOFUSRICK-


End file.
